I’m not sure about other MilWives, but I often feel pressure living in a military community to be fit! skinny! beautiful! because the men are always mostly all of the above. We moved to Kansas a year ago and regardless of the fact that we live in the most “active community in Kansas” I’ve found excuses not to take care of myself and remain active.
Of course, battling depression for nine months messes with everything, exercise and personal care… not exactly top priorities. Waking up each morning was hard enough. Thanking God for the ability to wake up was doubly hard because I didn’t want to live anymore. I did this all with a smile on my face deceiving those that love me. In time, the excess flab started gaining weight of its own. Today I find myself looking in the mirror going “where am I?” Is that really me in there behind all the fat?
I’ve always been a pretty girl. A “pretty face,” actually. (Don’t ever tell anyone that they have a pretty face… just don’t.) There have been times that I could turn heads and be confident in doing so. Today, I’m just an overstuffed shell of who I was even just a year ago. My body and my self image have spiraled out of control and it’s passed the point of effecting my marriage. The Husband married a confident woman who was happy with herself and the decisions she made. Confident in the ability to take care of myself better than anyone else. I don’t know what happened to her. Neither does The Husband… and he’s pissed (to say the least).
Of course, there’s always a right way and a wrong way in confronting issues in marriage. The Husband decided that going for the jugular was the appropriate way of dealing with his issues with my weight and self-image the other day. He broke me in a way that still instantly brings tears to my eyes. There isn’t enough super-glue to fix what he’s done. There is, however, enough tread on my shoes to make it better. For myself.
After explaining the situation to The Lovely Co-Worker yesterday I came to realize that I might not be as terrible as I see myself. I don’t weigh 300 pounds or look like I should be in a zoo on display for “unfit and ugly”, but at the same time… I feel grotesque and like I actually weigh a literal ton. I don’t look in the mirror and think anything positive. I imediately zone in on the trouble areas… I pick myself apart and talk smack to myself, as if that’s encouraging.
It’s not in my genetic code to ever be a stick figure… but it’s also not in my genetic code to be sober… and I am (I used to drink a wee bit way too much… now I have a glass of wine and I get all tipsy). I got a beautiful, encouraging email from my dad yesterday. I digested the message he sent me, but I took something completely different than what he intended from the email. My dad is sober. After being an alcoholic for 20 years, if he can be sober and remain sober… why can’t I conquer this little weight problem of mine? I was born a fighter… and I remain a fighter. I can continue to lean on genetics for excuses… but I have realized, that’s all they are. Excuses.
Last week I’d already made the decision to begin Operation Be Hot Again. I knew that I was unhappy and there’s nothing in this world that’s a quick solution to this. The timing of The Husband’s rant about wanting to be married to someone that actually liked herself was completely wrong. The things he said were unforgettable, but I can choose to listen him and give in to the nasty little devil on my shoulder… or I can pick myself up, hold my head high and take care of myself. I’m choosing the latter. Also, because you know, I’m a MilWife… I have to handle situations in strategic ways…
I haven’t, and won’t change the way I cook, but I will change the way I eat. I know myself and I know what’s worked before… everything in moderation, including creamed corn. Just don’t go in for seconds… cause you know, that’s another mile or two to walk.
A Cat’s Pajamas Original
2 T butter
2 c corn (fresh or still frozen)
1 T corn starch
1/2 t freshly grated nutmeg
1 c milk (I use 1%)
Salt & Pepper to taste
In a deep non-stick (if you have one) skillet, melt butter over medium heat. Add corn and stir to coat with the butter. Sprinkle cornstarch over the corn, immediately add milk, nutmeg, salt and pepper. Reduce heat to low and cook for about 10 minutes until milk has thickened.
Enjoy. One spoonful. And really enjoy it because you know that it’s made with 1% milk… there’s no preservatives. Enjoy it because you can’t eat it every day. It is corn, after all.